The Auror and the Researcher
by Keep
Summary: Post-Hogwarts, post-Voldemort. This is a DH; Draco's father is dead, and the real Draco comes out to play. Can Hermione forgive him for all the cruel things he's done to her? R & R please!
1. Chance Encounters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot, but man is that something worth owning! This is D/H, one of my favorite pairings, and it's post-Hogwarts, post-Voldemort, so all the big bad evilness is gone, and Hermione doesn't even need to worry about exams! Yay! Comment, please, and let me know what you think. If you have any ideas as to where I should take this story, by all means let me know, I'm open to suggestions. Feedback of all sorts is welcome! And just as a general warning, if you don't like it, don't read it! Enjoy!

Hermione strolled through Diagon Alley at a leisurely pace, her robes swirling around her from the breeze created by other shoppers. She was supposed to meet Harry and Ron in an hour at Florean Fortescue's for some ice cream and a bit of catch up. Ever since the end of their seventh year at Hogwarts, which, coincidentally was when Voldemort was defeated, they'd all been very busy with their own lives. Ron had been scouted out by both Puddlemere United and the Wimbourne Wasps, but had chosen the Wasps because he didn't even want to think about being on the same team as Oliver Wood again. Harry had, as many had expected, become an Auror, after three long years of additional training. He had worked harder at his training than anything he had ever done before, and had been top of his class. Hermione, too, worked for the Ministry. Her official title was Ministry Researcher, but her duties entailed much more than the name would suggest. She did research, yes. She researched ancient magic, she researched Dark Magic, she researched innovative medical magic. Dark Magic was still used very widely throughout the Wizarding world, and by studying it, and ancient magic, she was able to come up with faster, more effective cures for the unfortunate victim of a Dark wizard. Not many people knew that Hermione was one of the people behind the new cures in the last few years, but she didn't need or want that recognition. She was happy enough when she visited St. Mungo's every now and again, and saw each trip that fewer people were suffering ill effects of Dark Magic. The Minister was extremely excited about Hermione's work, and said something very nice about her progress every time he saw her. Of course, Fudge was long out of office. In the summer after their sixth year, the foolhardy Minister still denied the return of Voldemort, and this had caused some uproar from the Wizarding community. Much to everyone's delight, and some people's surprise, Arthur Weasley became the new Minister of Magic. He'd been in office for just about five years now, and things couldn't have been better.

Life was good, and the slow stroll she was taking only added to her pleasure. Because she still had a while before she was to meet her best friends, she decided to stop in a small shop to look at some new quills. As she looked over a set of gold quills with purple tips she heard the door open and looked up. Draco Malfoy walked into the store, but seemed intent on other things and did not notice her. Malfoy… Hermione didn't know what to make of him. His father had been killed by Voldemort shortly before his own demise, and this had sobered Draco greatly. He had never shown outright signs of being a Death Eater himself, but after his father's death even his smart comments had stopped. Once all the cruel words stopped, Draco Malfoy didn't seem to be such a bad person.

Hermione decided that she wanted these intriguing quills (they were similar to Quick-Quotes Quills, and wrote what you dictated, only with no embellishment), and brought them to the front counter. Malfoy leaned there, waiting for the clerk who was in the back. She felt mildly nervous about being alone here with him, but pushed those thoughts away, knowing that she was a fully trained witch now, and could very well defend herself. She set the quills down in front of her, and the small noise caused Malfoy to look up from the spot on the floor which had been intriguing him seconds earlier. His face contorted, as if he wanted to say something very much, but what he ended up saying was a very strangled "…Granger?"

She gave him a small smile, and stated "Malfoy." She looked away from him then, and saw the clerk coming back. He handed a small box to Malfoy who opened it immediately, and shook his head in a positive gesture. "It'll do," he said quietly to the clerk.

"I'll just put it on your account then, sir?" The clerk looked at him fearfully, as if expecting Malfoy to snap at him. However, he simply nodded once more. He closed the box, and turned to leave, stopping briefly to look at Hermione. Again he looked as if he wanted to say something, but this time he did not. He left quickly, and Hermione turned back to the clerk. She paid him and left, walking out into the open air again. She looked around, but didn't see Malfoy anywhere. _He must have Disapparated already_ she thought. She gave a small shrug and walked off to meet Harry and Ron.

* * *

The next day at work, Thursday, Hermione was working primarily on ancient material. This was a long-term project, in addition to which she had many smaller, less time-consuming assignments. Right now she was searching for any information these ancient texts might give her, in hopes of finding a cure for the long-term effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Although she got so tired of finding nothing useful time after time, the thought of Neville's parents, still untreated, kept her going. Today was just one of those days. Everything seemed so futile; these ancient texts gave way to no secret information, nothing that could help the Longbottoms.

With a sigh she heaved herself from her table, covered in books, and left her office to go and have a bite to eat. There was a lounge, on the same floor as the main lobby, where you could go and sit down, and a menu would appear before you. The menu that presented itself to Hermione seemed to have nothing appetizing. This seemed ridiculous because she knew that house-elves were doing the cooking, and they always seemed to have the food that tempted your palate most. Hermione had given up her struggle to free all the elves, but did not give up on treating them decently. She sighed as she looked over the pitiful menu again.

"Maybe you'd find something more palatable on my menu," came a voice from somewhere to her left. She knew that voice. She knew it well. But she had never heard that voice sound so civil. She turned.

"Malfoy?" He was sitting further down the bench that she was currently on the end of, but not _too_ close to make her feel uncomfortable.

"What?" he asked. "I do work for the Ministry, you know. It's not as if you didn't know that already, what are you so surprised about?"

"I…I didn't know you worked for the Ministry. I've never seen you around."

"Come on," he laughed. "Surely your best buddy told you that we work together." Malfoy looked at Hermione's shocked face. "Well, isn't that interesting. I'll have to fill you in I suppose."

"Please do," she said very quietly.

"Well," he started. "After my father died, everything changed. I mean, that evil git you knew in school, that wasn't me. I'm not like that, not really. My father had a lot of pressure on me to perform as he expected, to live up to the Dark Lord's expectations. All the things I said and did were closely monitored. All that muggle-born bullshit… that's not who I am, just so you know. Anyway, after he was gone, it looked like I was in even deeper than ever, because Voldemort needed support more than ever before. Then, ironic though it may be, Potter saved the day. What a surprise. Harry Potter saves Draco Malfoy from untimely death due to extensive use of the Cruciatus Curse. If he hadn't killed the Dark Lord, I'd probably be dead now anyway. Constant torturing doesn't do much for one's health you know. And that's the only time you'll hear this because I'm not about to go and start spouting off about how great Harry Bloody Potter is to the whole world. That's the last thing I need, to ruin my reputation with praise for the Boy Who Wouldn't Die."

Hermione interrupted him with a very quiet comment. "As far as I can tell, it couldn't hurt for you to change your reputation from what it once was…"

"Hey, I wasn't finished. And besides, anyone who _actually_ knows me now, knows that I am a very respectable young man, who is very good at what he does. _Which_ I was just getting to… As I was saying, with the Dark Lord gone, my life was looking up for the first time. I was to have the freedom I'd never had, and you can't imagine how exciting that prospect was. So, I did the only thing I thought was reasonable. I became an Auror."

Hermione gasped at this, but Malfoy kept going. "I was in Potter's class, but I was only second or third ranked. It's not that I'm not good, but I don't have the same pressure on me here as I did at school. I figured this is the only career for me; with the Ministry on my side, I can track down all the old crowd from my father's days and make them pay for what I had to live through. Don't get me wrong, I don't try to hurt them. Just knowing they'll be in Azkaban is enough for me. So that's my story, and I'm sticking to it." He finished with a small bow to her, which was difficult considering he was sitting next to her now.

Hermione didn't know what to say just yet, so she said the only thing that she could think of. "I think I'll have the sea bass with roasted vegetables, and a glass of water." The food immediately appeared in front of her, and her menu disappeared without a sound. Malfoy grinned at her. "I thought the ever-intelligent Ms. Granger never ran out of things to say. And here you are, seemingly devoid of intelligent conversation. Who would have thought that all it would take was me telling a little bit of truth."

She looked at the sea bass in front of her, and then back at Malfoy. Her words started slowly, but then began coming out very easily. "So… you've been on the side of good this whole time, but never mentioned it to anyone? Well, I guess the Ministry know, and that's enough. But if this is how you feel, why didn't you say anything after Voldemort was defeated? Why wait four years to say something?"

She would've kept going, but Malfoy interrupted her. "I didn't say anything after the Dark Lord's fall because who would've believed me? Everyone thought the whole time that I was sure to join the Death Eaters the first chance I got. And why then, wait a whole four years? Because now I've been through training, and the Ministry has seen fit for me to be an Auror. I've been fully trained for a year now, and I needed that credibility if anyone was to believe me. Surely you of all people can see the logic behind that."

She nodded. "I guess I can. I just… never expected it of you Malfoy. Don't look at me like that! No one expected anything good to come from you, but here you are, helping the Ministry every day. And I had no idea. I wonder why Harry didn't say anything…"

Malfoy was smiling a bit at her words of semi-praise. "Who knows what goes through Potter's head. All that matters now is that we're both out there tracking down the Dark wizards, wouldn't you say?"

She nodded again. "Are you going to order something? I'm presuming that you actually came down here to eat."

He smiled at her again. "No, actually I cam down just hoping that you would be here…. Of course I'm here to eat. Think, Granger, you're the brilliant one, remember? Just because I told you my life story doesn't make us bosom buddies. I just want you to know how it really is. That doesn't mean that conversation like this will happen all the time, got that straight?"

She looked at him oddly. "That's fine, Malfoy. But as long as we're clearing things up, let me tell you something. My name is Hermione. Pleas don't call me Granger any more, it's rude. And as you are a new and improved Draco Malfoy, you can call me that whether or not we're having conversations, and whether or not we're friends, though I'd hardly refer to _anyone_ as my bosom buddy."

Malfoy stared at her. "Alright. Let's eat." He ordered grilled chicken, also with vegetables and a glass of water. They ate in silence until their meals were finished, neither of them ordering dessert. "Well, _Hermione_, why aren't you ordering dessert? Surely you indulge your sweet tooth a little."

She gave him a small smile. "For your information, I watch what I eat because I'm not particular fond of over-indulging and then paying the price by gaining five pounds. Surely that's not your reasoning, so why aren't _you_ eating any dessert?"

He laughed haughtily. "Well, for some of us it takes diet _and_ exercise to maintain a healthy body. I'm not particularly fond of taking potions to make myself fit for living, if you know what I mean."

She nodded at him, and took a sip of her half-full glass of water. "I have to get going. I'm in the middle of a never-ending project, and I may as well start going nowhere as soon as possible. Hopefully I'll start making some headway one of these days."

"Ah yes, Hermione the great Researcher. I've heard about your work. Making medical advancements practically every day aren't you? That's good work you're doing. And if for no other reason, you'll make progress soon enough simply because you're Hermione Granger." He smiled at her, and she smiled back. They headed out of the lounge and toward the elevator. "What stop are you?" Malfoy looked at her while they were in the lift. "Oh, I'm level eight, in the, er, research department, ironically." She grinned at him. "Odd place for a Researcher," said Malfoy with a smirk. "I'm on level two obviously."

"I know," she said simply. The lift reached her level first, and she stepped out into a quiet corridor. "Perhaps I'll see you around Malfoy. Good to know you're on our side."

"Yes," he said. "You'll see me around. And by the way," just as the doors were closing. "My name is Draco." The doors clicked shut and the lift was gone before Hermione even knew how to react. She thought it only right that he would have her call him Draco when she had told him to call her Hermione. But something inside of her was feeling very pleased as she went back to her cluttered table. Somehow the reading didn't seem as tedious as before.

* * *

Hermione had worked for a few more hours before calling it quits, and locking up her office for the night. She had left all her books open to where she was reading, so that the next day she could just start right up again. She pulled on her coat and left the Ministry through a small lift in the Atrium that brought her out to Muggle London in an old telephone booth. Hermione had decided that even though she was working for the Ministry now, Muggle life really wasn't so bad in comparison. Of course she used magic in her home, and had many wards protecting her apartment, but there was something appealing about living away from all the rest of the magical community. It just seemed more peaceful to her, knowing that if her neighbor came to visit, they could have a quiet cup of tea, and talk about the weather, and it wouldn't have anything to do with what Hermione dealt with every day.

She walked to her apartment, which was only a few blocks from the Ministry. Her coat went in the front closet, and her purse sat on a little table just next to the front door. Her door opened right into the living room, so she walked a few feet and sank into her comfortable white couch. She stretched one hand out and picked up a remote off of the glass coffee table in front of her. The glass had designs etched into the edges, and sat on gold-plated legs, matching Hermione's décor of white and gold. It had been a gift from her parents upon graduation, as had her magical stereo, which they has somehow managed to find. She turned on the stereo and in seconds the soothing melodies of Vivaldi filled her ears. She relaxed and sank even farther into the couch, losing herself in the beautiful sounds dancing through the apartment. This was how she relaxed every day. It took away the stress from being hunched over books all day, and the aggravation of making no progress on her long-term assignment.

A little voice in the back of her head scolded her for lying down for so long, as Hermione came into consciousness again. She had fallen asleep listening to the music, but a quick glance at the clock on the wall told her it had only been about a half an hour. She sat up and stretched, yawning widely, before slowly making her way to her room. She languidly stripped away her Ministry robes, and the slacks and blouse she wore underneath. Changing into a pair of comfortable jeans, a fitted t-shirt, and sandals, she ran a brush through her hair. Since her early years in Hogwarts, Hermione had been searching for a way to tame her hair, and by graduation she had found a cleansing potion that somehow managed to let her keep her volume, but without the frizz. She looked herself over in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. She pulled out her coat from the front closet and slipped it on, then went back into her bedroom where there was a fireplace. Although she lived in Muggle London, she had had her fireplace connected to the Floo network for convenience. She pulled a pinch of Floo powder from a small bowl on the mantle. She pulled out her wand and quickly lit a small fire, before throwing the powder in and stating, very clearly, "Grimmauld Place!"

Yay! First chapter up! Read and review, and like I said, let me know what you think! Next chapter coming soon!


	2. Dinner at Grimmauld Place

A/N: I've decided I may add a little romantic twist (twist being the key word, as there will obviously be romance anyway) to this later on, but you'll have to be patient to find out what happens. You may or may not like it, but I think it'll be a nice touch.

And… story!

Dinner at Grimmauld Place

Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace, barely managing to maintain her balance. She didn't see anyone around, so she went into the kitchen. There, she found Harry making dinner and Ron and Remus Lupin sitting at the table having a quiet conversation.

"Hey," she said. "How was everyone's day?"

Harry looked over at her and gave a small grin. "We didn't do too much of anything today, just some research as to the whereabouts of some particularly violent vampires. We've been trying to find them for months now. How about you?"

"Well… my day can only be described as interesting. I was taking a bit of a break from my research to have lunch. I decided, for whatever reason, to go to the lounge to eat, and when I was deciding what to order I ran across someone I haven't seen in a long while. And that person has definitely changed." She stopped there, not only to make sure they were listening, but also to fix Harry with a pointed stare.

"C'mon then," said Ron, just after swallowing a swig of pumpkin juice. "Out with it. Who was so interesting that you brought them up at dinner?"

Hermione was still staring at Harry. "I think Harry knows just who I'm talking about, don't you Harry?"

"I…" He started. And then realization dawned. "Oh, Hermione. I didn't think it was all that important. I mean, he was always such a git, you know? Also, he sort of hinted that I shouldn't tell you we were working together."

"He said that to you?" asked Hermione, surprised. "He told me that he thought you might've mentioned it already. That's odd. Well, maybe not considering who it is. But he seemed so different. He was… pleasant, almost enjoyable to be around."

Ron was starting to get mad at this point. "Will someone please tell me who it is we're talking about? Just because you two are stuffed in the Ministry all day doesn't mean you have to exclude me."

Hermione turned to him. "Sorry, Ron, I was just so caught up in what happened, you'll understand in a second. See, I had a nice, insult-free lunch with Draco Malfoy."

"Ferret Boy?" he spat out. "How could you possibly have a nice lunch with that prat?"

"Ron, that's what I'm trying to explain. It was so weird at first, like it wasn't really the Malfoy we know and hate. He was so… nice. I could never have imagined him as a real person, but there we were, having a decent conversation. He said it was who he really is inside, that since his father had died he was free to be himself."

Ron snorted. "What a load of shit. Malfoy isn't nice, and that's a fact that we all know."

"Actually," interrupted Harry. "He's been really decent whenever we work together. All through training he was really quiet, but ever since we're in the same unit he's been downright friendly. Whatever he told you, Hermione, I would tend to think it may possibly be true. He seems like a real person once he's away from all that pureblood crap."

"Excuse me!" Ron nearly shouted. "Since _when_ do you and Malfoy work together? And exactly _why_ did you fail to mention this little fact to the rest of us?"

"Ron, shut up," said Hermione calmly. "I would've like to have known as well, considering I work in the Ministry, too, but I'm sure Harry had his reasons for not saying anything."

"Actually," said Harry, I really just didn't think to mention it. I'd gotten so used to spending time with a decent-mannered Malfoy that it just became habit, and it didn't seem out of the ordinary."

"Harry!" Ron began to shout, but was interrupted.

"Ron," said Remus quietly. "You of all people, should know that sometimes people aren't always what they seem. After all, some people," he snarled, "only see me as a werewolf, but you know I'm so much more than that. So maybe you should give Malfoy the chance to live his own life, especially now that his father is out of the picture for good. He hasn't got any more pressure on him so maybe you'll _all_ find out that he's a good person underneath the façade."

Ron had the grace to look a little abashed at this. "Sorry Remus, I didn't think of it like that. I suppose it can't hurt to try and be nice."

"The understatement of the century, I am sure. When you do presume to think, I do believe the Ministry will present you with an Order of Merlin. After all, it would be a terribly difficult feat for one such as you." The low, silky voice of Professor Severus Snape carried in from the living room. The kitchen door opened a second later, and instead of sweeping in, as per his normal routine, he merely stood, glowering at the lot of them.

"Good evening to you too, Severus," said Remus cheerfully. "I take it your day was quite exhilarating? For you are in such a fine temperament, judging from that lively smile on your visage."

Snape looked affronted at the idea that he be smiling for any reason. "My day, if you must know, was filled with petulant crybabies who are unable to read, let alone brew delicate potions. In other words, a normal day. And yourself?"

"Fine, fine. I accomplished a lot today, but I'll tell you later. Dinner is just about ready I think."

"Quite right, Remus. Everyone to the table, and bring your own dishes out. I did cook after all." Harry shooed them out to the dining area.

"Potter, you may consider your cooking edible, but that remains to be seen, so don't start acting all cocky just yet." Snape's words were relatively cruel, but to his companions they merely sounded teasing.

Since the end of the war their group had become closer than they ever would have imagined. If you had told any member of the trio that they would be eating dinner and bantering lightly with Professor Snape, they would have told you to go get a check up at St. Mungo's. As it was, the casualties of war had made them realize that their friendships were invaluable, and so brought them closer in a strange way. Remus had become very quiet in the last few years, in part because of Sirius' death. Snape had finally been able to gather his life together once Voldemort was gone, and in doing so realized he had no one to turn to other than Dumbledore. The trio had lost many friends and acquaintances, and that had drawn them together more so than before. The motley group was odd, at best, but it worked for them, and filled some of the emptiness they had all been feeling since the end of the war.

They ate in silence. Harry's cooking had become a hobby to fill his time in the evenings, and was quickly progressing. Even Snape had nothing to find fault with, but still, it _was_ Snape.

"It was almost edible, Potter. Try again tomorrow." Harry smiled as he cleared his own dishes away to the sink. This was the highest praise he was likely ever going to receive from Snape, and he'd take it.

Dinner was a semi-weekly affair at Grimmauld Place. Harry and Remus lived there in peace, though their schedules alternated greatly. Ron traveled a great deal with the Wasps, so he kept his own small apartment for when he was in town or in the off-season. Hermione visited most days of the week, staying for dinner and a bit of casual conversation. Snape came more frequently than she, but it was not for dinner and chit chat. He came during the day, and at odd times during the weekend to spend time with Remus. Although they had not been friendly before, the war seemed to have drawn them into friendship. They spent hours simply reading, or discussing their research. The pair of them had been working on some secret project for ages, but no one knew what it was.

Except maybe for Albus Dumbledore, because he just knew everything. The Headmaster dropped by every now and again to offer his greetings. He never stayed for more than a cup of tea, and Hermione didn't know if it was because Harry's cooking was a bit mediocre, or if it was because something was going on at the school. Either way, he was still going strong, and this gave Hermione strength even though she didn't realize it. To see this powerful wizard plan his way through a third reign of terror, and come out of it with the same twinkling blue eyes comforted her, letting her know that she could survive the horrors as well.

All the dishes were cleared away and the group of them, Snape, Harry, Ron, Remus, and Hermione, sat in the living room surrounding the fireplace. There was a small fire burning because the day had been cool, and the ancient Black residence was always chilly inside, no matter the weather outside. They sat in silence, save for some random comments, but it was what they all desired.

Suddenly Hermione found herself unable to keep silent. "Professor Snape? I was wondering if you could answer a question for me."

Snape looked at her before replying. "I was under the impression you knew everything there is to know, Miss Granger."

"Unless you suspect me of knowing every intimate detail of your life, I suppose you may have to help me out here."

He glared at her, but only for a second. "Go on then."

"Well, I was just wondering… Sir, do you trust Draco Malfoy?"

"What does it matter if I do or do not trust young Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione proceeded to tell him of her lunch date with Draco, and explained that she was unsure of how to proceed, if the occasion arised.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, though not unpleasantly. "I do not know enough of him at this point in time to answer that question in an unbiased manner. However much I may regret saying this later, go with your instinct."

"Thank you, Professor. I think I'll do that. I feel as if I can trust him, for some reason. I'll just have to wait and see what happens. For all I know, I may not even see him until weeks from now." She smiled softly to herself. "I think it'll work out alright, if that's what it comes to."

Woo-hoo! Another chapter done. R & R please! If you feed your author reviews, they are very likely to update quickly!


	3. A Day of Letters

A Day of Letters

Hermione had headed home shortly after her conversation with Snape. She settled into her couch with the book she was currently reading. _He Flew Like A Madman_ (the biography of the "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn) was an interesting way to keep her mind busy, but also a good way to distract her from what she was working on at the Ministry. As much as she loved to research, and even though her desire to help cure the Longbottoms was great, she made sure to take time each day for herself so she didn't overload.

Laying the book on her coffee table, Hermione went into her kitchen and began to prepare herself a cup of tea. Just as she was taking the boiling water off the stove (she found it relaxing to do some things without magic), there was a tapping at her window. She opened in to let in a small, brown post-owl. It dropped a letter on her kitchen table and was gone in a matter of seconds. Hermione closed the window after it, and returned to making her tea. When it was ready she sat down at the table and picked up the letter.

Her name and address were on the front of the envelope, but she didn't recognize the handwriting, nor did she recognize the seal of black wax on the back. She scanned the envelope with her wand for even though Voldemort was gone, there were plenty of Dark wizards still roaming. When she found there was nothing suspicious she opened it and pulled out the parchment from inside. It was a letter, and while the handwriting was not familiar, by the end she knew who had sent it.

_Miss Granger, or Hermione, if I may,_

_I just wanted to tell you that today was interesting, and hopefully we will be able to repeat the experience in the near future. _

_If my offer holds any interest to you, perhaps I can persuade you to meet me again for lunch, at half past noon in the front lobby. I thought we might try a nice bistro I know that's in the area. _

_The ball is in your court now, and I'll see you if I see you. However, please consider that I will be very pleased to hold a conversation with you again._

_Sincerely,_

_DM_

Hermione had no idea what to make of the letter. It made her very happy, on one hand, to think that Draco wanted to meet with her again. However, even after talking to Harry and Professor Snape, she still had a few doubts in the back of her mind about his trustworthiness.

She pushed her feeling aside for the moment, figuring that she would decide tomorrow if she wanted to join him for lunch. Finishing her tea, she cast a quick cleansing charm on the cup and put it back in the cupboard next to her refrigerator. She went back into her living room and picked up her book, folding over the top of the page she was on to save her place for the next night.

Lazily she walked to her bedroom, and changed into her pajamas. Snuggling into her comforter and pillows, Hermione was asleep in minutes. That night she dreamt of dragons with blond hair.

After Hermione had gone home, Ron had made his own goodbyes, leaving Harry, Remus, and Snape to themselves in quiet comfort. He had decided it would be better tonight to Floo to his apartment, even though he always ended up covered in soot. Dinner had been relaxing and he didn't want to take a chance splinching himself.

Ron tumbled out of his fireplace, getting soot all over his recently cleaned carpet. Contrary to popular belief, he was able to clean for himself, but as he was never home long enough to invite anyone over, it was a moot point. After discarding his outer robes, he headed to the kitchen to grab a Butterbeer. He then settled himself in to play a game of wizard's chess against himself.

He had just made his first move when he noticed an owl tapping on his window. He opened the window and a black Eagle owl flew in, dropping a letter on his coffee table. The owl hooted in a sad way, and was out the window before Ron could process what was going on. Everyone in the wizarding world knew what it meant to have a Ministry Eagle owl deliver to your home. He looked at the envelope on the table, his heart filling with dread. Who had it been? _Please not Mum, not Dad, not…_ He cut off this line of thinking, hoping against all hope that the letter was for a different reason.

He opened the letter with trepidation, and began to read.

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_We regret to inform you of the death of your brother, Percy Weasley. The rest of your family has been notified as well. Please accept our condolences._

_We cannot disclose the cause of your brother's death; however, your father may be able to give you more information on this matter. _

_Sincerely,_

_Amelia Bones_

_Deputy Minister_

_Ministry of Magic_

Ron sat with the letter in his hands, not knowing what to think. Percy was not his favorite family member, but still family. In Ron's sixth year at Hogwarts war had been openly declared on Voldemort. Soon after Fudge had been displaced as Minister of Magic, and Percy had come around a little bit. He was still angry with his family from previous years, but because the threat of Voldemort was becoming worse and worse he had decided to return home. After the war was over Percy had become less of a prat and had gone back to his boring self. In Ron's eyes this was not enough. Percy had never apologized to the family for his actions, and Ron had not forgiven him for that.

That fact was eating him up inside right now. He had not forgiven Percy, and now he would never be able to.

He set the letter on his table once more, and went to his fireplace. Taking the Floo powder in hand, he called home. He wondered if they had gotten the letter yet, as Ron's apartment was much closer to the Ministry.

Arthur was the first to notice Ron's head in the fireplace at the Burrow. "Ron! Did you…"

"Yeah dad, I heard. What happened? Can you tell me?" Suddenly, more than anything else Ron felt the need to know what had caused his brother's demise. Perhaps if his death had not been painful it wouldn't hurt as much.

"He…" Arthur faltered. "He was found in Diagon Alley. Witnesses claimed that he just appeared in the middle of the way, and that no one else was with him. He…" Again Arthur paused, his emotion taking over. "He was killed by Avada Kedavra, but there was evidence… evidence that he had been tortured before his death. He had two initials cut into his chest when they found him. B L. We can only assume it was Bellatrix Lestrange." Arthur couldn't say anymore.

Both men were openly crying now, but were trying very hard to maintain their composure. Ron was the first to break the silence.

"I… I never got the chance to forgive him, dad. I never told him that I loved him no matter what decisions he had made. That he had always been our family, and that mattered more than anything. He never knew." Ron trailed off, afraid that his speech would falter if continued to speak.

Arthur nodded to Ron. "It's ok, Ron. He'll know. Whether he's passed on or waiting to, he'll know. I have to go and try to discuss arrangements with your mother. We're trying to get the funeral ready by Sunday. Obviously your friends deserve to know, but don't mention the initials we saw, we can't be entirely sure just yet that it was Bellatrix. I'll talk to you soon." And with that his father was gone, and Ron pulled his head back into his lonely apartment.

The only thing he could think to do was notify his friends. He sat down to begin writing immediately.

Harry, Remus, Hermione, and Snape received their letters at the same time the next morning.

_Percy is dead. They found him in Diagon Alley last night. Funeral is on Sunday. They said he was tortured before they killed him with the killing curse. Dad said not to say anything about it, so you can't say anything, but they think it was Bellatrix Lestrange._

Snape got his during breakfast, and turned to Albus with blank eyes. Dumbledore nodded to him with a sad stare.

Harry and Remus had just awoken and read their letters together. They were both saddened, but Harry was furious at the thought of Bellatrix Lestrange wreaking more havoc on the world.

Hermione received hers just before she got into her office. She took the letter and opened it in her office. She cried.

Ron went to the Burrow, and left Percy's room only once the whole time.

A/N: Ok, I know, I know, I killed Percy. I needed a way to get some things started, and Percy was the best way, unfortunately. It'll get better, I promise. Also, I would have made it longer, but I really wanted to end it on a somber note. Thank you to Amster, Katerina, and Molly for being my first reviewers! Molly, if you're reading this, I'd love to do what you asked. Why don't you send me an email with what you'd like to be, as it were.


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